That moment, when life shifts from one space to another place.
Seldom is life experienced more tangibly than in the experience of change – from one state to another, from an old form to a different one… Shifts happen.
I am testimony to the transition, of this fact.
Life can be counted less in years, and more by the changes which define us.
Threshold to threshold, chamber to inner chamber, later on…
Transitions manifest more readily on the outside, when wrought hard and wrestled for within.
I bare witness to the naked truth of change, whether we welcome it or not.
I diplomatically own that Grace is all that softens the impacts, inevitable with shifts.
Do I desire change? A wish for greater freedom? Of course.
Can I handle the newly-pressed shaping and mold for re-integration? Not always.
Can I forgive myself, first and fore-most, when I’m hard-pressed to forget?
Can I allow Life to shape me and mold me, break me and bruise me, burst about me and overwhelm me, flooding my being through trying times?
My answer remains, emphatically YES!
Why? You ask?
Because I can. I can answer, the Call. The workings of Spirit are never as visible as those evident amidst the manifestations of change…
I allow, I surrender – I grow.
The deluge of past pain storms around me, suffocating and strangling me at times – or drowning me, at times rippling me free,
from all snares and vices once encountered along the known path…
In the still point I see clearly now: release.
Those two roads diverged in the woods – and indeed, I took the road less travelled.
I am better for it.